


It's A Hard Life

by Fortheothermisfits



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Aziraphale is part of the school paper, Beezlebub is a volleyball player, Beezlebub is slightly chill too, Crowley is a Mess (Good Omens), F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gabriel is a chill and nice person, Gabriel is a jock, Good Omens References, Human!Aziraphale, Human!Beezlebub, Human!Crowley, I made this for funsies, M/M, Michael is a petty bastard, Pining, Queen (Band) References, Rated T for language, Sneaking Out, The Author Regrets Nothing, awkward first meetings, based on a tumblr post i made, basically they're all human, because I fucking can, cant help it, gabriel is a good bro, human!Gabriel, the fandom needs more Highschool!AUs, this is good i swear, you heard me right, you'll hate Michael and the stepdad :D
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-06-29 01:01:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19819297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fortheothermisfits/pseuds/Fortheothermisfits
Summary: Join the adventures of two of the most unlikely duos as they venture through one of the toughest parts of a teen's life Highschool. Tag along as they try to make it through the semesters and endure the social and family pressures expected from both sides. Andmaybethey'll find love along the way.No better way to suffer than with someone, right?





	1. In The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> This is it! If _finally_ made it! The Highschool fic I've been gushing about on my Tumblr (@Fortheothermisfits) for the past few weeks. I hope you all enjoy as much as I did!

There are three things that come into one's mind when they meet a certain student named Aziraphale Fell: he's English, he's intelligent and extremely polite and harmless. One of those, however, is slightly incorrect. 

Aziraphale likes to consider himself an average person among the highschool body. Most people don't share his passion for books and literature, preferring technology and cooler things. He was usually brushed aside by others or simply ignored, always comparing him to his older brother Gabriel and step-sister Michael.

The young man sighed as he listened to the speaker the school invited for their yearly "anti-liquor and cigarettes" seminars, jotting down some lines he thought was quote worthy for the school paper. Aziraphale was so caught up with his task that he didn't notice someone taking a seat beside him until the person spoke up.

"I don't know what's wrong with having a nice glass of alcohol and having a smoke once in a while." The man said, making Aziraphale let out a surprised sound, dropping his pen on the floor. The man bent down to pick it up and hand it over to him.

"T-thank you." He muttered quietly, watching the man beside him hum before sitting leisurely on the chair. He had red hair, was impeccably dressed and his eyes were covered with designer glasses. "Er, it must _be_ bad....uh..."

"Crowley."

"Crowley." Aziraphale hummed. Crowley gave a small nod. "It does get people addicted and develop unhealthy habits. Ruins lives everywhere." He answered.

"That lot's stupid. Don't know how to control themselves. They got it coming if you ask me." Crowley said, shrugging. "But I believe some people do know their limits. 'S not bad to indulge once in a while."

Aziraphale stayed silent, getting Crowley's point. Nothing _is_ wrong with indulging once in a while, he supposes.  
Smelling the stench of cigarettes, he sniffed to find where it was coming from only to find out that it was from Crowley. He slightly turned away, his nose scrunched up. Aziraphale wasn't particularly fond of the smell. And apparently, Crowley noticed the other's movement.

"What? Too good for me to sit next to you?" Crowley asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Not really, but you smell like cigarettes." Aziraphale admits, reddening a bit.

"Come on, it's not like you haven't had one yourself." Crowley scoffed, rolling his eyes behind the dark lenses that covered them. Aziraphale shook his head.

"I-I haven't smoked." 

Crowley stared at him at disbelief. "Not even once?"

"Not even once."

The other's eyebrows shot up to his hairline, surprised by the sudden knowledge that not everyone in his school had done something slightly sinful like consume alcohol or smoke. "What about alcohol. Have you had alcohol? Wine? Spiked punch?"

Aziraphale shyly shook his head sideways, a bit ashamed to admit that he hadn't tried anything like that before. It,s one of the few reasons why people think he's lame: which confuses him. What's wrong with not liking getting drunk or huff out smoke? Besides, even if he wanted to experience those, his stepfather would _end_ him. 

"Wow." Crowley said, chuckling a bit as he crossed his arms. "You really haven't done anything like that? You must be an _angel_ then." He teased, making Aziraphale redden even more. 

Shaking his head, Crowley stood up and pocketed his hands. "Well, lovely chatting with you, but it seems like you're not too fond of people like me. I'll find someplace else and leave you to jot down much important stuff the lad's saying." He shrugged, gesturing towards the speaker before turning around and sauntering away. "Ciao, angel."


	2. Pep Rally (part one)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley and Aziraphale meet yet again. Banter and teenage awkwardness ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back at it again! Chapter two and yes, this will be made into two parts (because why not). I'm doing the without a beta so forgive me for any mistakes. Enjoiy!

_Anthony J. Crowley._

That name might mean a lot of things to those who hear it. May it be a name you'll hear being whispered among groups, either gossiping or fawning, or may it be a name you'll hear being yelled by a professor or a pissed off student who have experienced one of the _minor inconveniences_ Crowley managed to conjure up.

He pocketed his hands, whistling a tune while sauntering along the hall with students who were rushing towards the gymnasium to watch the much awaited Pep Rally. Its one of those events at school that gets them all riled up and get into the so called "school spirit". But hey, the performances aren't half bad, and he could spend his time sitting at the back row playing games in his phone or plotting his next big inconvenience, so why not?

"Anthony!" A voice hissed behind him, making the redhead turn around only to find himself facing Alexandra "Beelze" Bub, his second cousin and partner in crime.

"Why if it isn't it my lovely cousin!" Crowley grinned, tone teasing. Alexandra, or _Beelzebub_ as they preferred, stood a few inches shorter than him, but don't let that fool you. This little shit could pack a mean left hook, and you'd feel like a ball they just spiked across the court. "And to what pleasure did I owe you to accompan--"

"I'm going to stop you right there on your bullshit, Anthony. More important matters to discuss." Beelzebub deadpanned, crossing her arms. They glared at the people they noticed who were looking and trying to snoop around their business and sent them a warning look. Crowley raised an eyebrow.

"Okay firstly, it's Crowley, _not_ Anthony." He said, rolling his eyes. _Crowley_ was more his style than _Anthony._ It had a nicer ring to it. "Secondly, what in the deuce could be this "important matters" you're going on about?"

\---

Oh, this was going to be _good_. A bit risky (like detention or suspension risky), but _oh so fucking worth it._ The school is not going to forget this for a long while. Hell, he bets that this will be the talk of the crowd for years to come!

Kicking the basket farther back below his chair, he settled down more comfortably, throwing his arm behind the chair and crossed his legs lazily, waiting for the gymnasium to become full. And unlike the other rallies, he was seated far more closer and upfront rather than the back. 

"Yes, you are going to do great. You've been doing this for a couple of years now, remember? I assure you that everything will be tickety-boo, dear brother." Yet another familiar voice in a distance said, making Crowley sit up straighter. He discovered soon after that this voice belonged to the same boy he met at the auditorium, the one with the blond curls and blue eyes and slightly rosy cheeks.  
_Okay, rosy cheeks?! Weird thing to take note on someone, Crowley._ He internally facepalmed. What in the world was happening to him? 

He snapped out of his thoughts when the boy sat down beside him, still talking to the person over the phone. He waited patiently for the call to end before speaking up.

"Tickety-boo? Really, Angel?"

He turned his head to the side and met blue eyes staring back at him expectantly.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Out of all the slang humanity has conjured up throughout the centuries, you use _tickety-boo_." He remarked, his nonchalant tone mixing with exasperation and confusion. "Who even uses that word nowadays?"

"Well _I_ do, and whatever term or slang I use is none of your business, Crowley." He huffed, wiggling in his seat to get more comfortable before folding his hands on his lap. Crowley shrugged.

"Just saying. It doesn't hurt using more modern slang than _tickety-boo._ "

"And it doesn't hurt using old slang like _tickety-boo_ too." He said with finality, turning away like he did back when they first met. Awkward silence surrounded them both, with Aziraphale playing with the hem of his sweater and Crowley staring off into a wall. 

_Say something,_ the back of his mind nagged. 

"I thought you didn't like sitting next to me, since I smell like cigarettes or something like that." He finally said, making the blue eyed boy look up and bite his lip.

"About that, I'm sorry if I came across as rude when I said that." He said, a bit embarrassed. "And I didn't really mean to make you think that I don't like to sitting next to you, the smell just-" he made a vague gesture with his hand. "-suprised me, that's all."

"S'fine." Crowley waved off. "And I guess using old slang won't kill anyone, no matter how cringey it may be." He added, earning him a glare from the other. He chuckled and raised his hands. "Fine, fine. I was kidding! You do you, I don't judge." 

He really doesn't judge. He received a lot of it to know that it hurts.

"Say, I don't know your name." He raised an eyebrow. "Seems pretty unfair for you to know mine while I don't know what's yours."

The other let out a laugh, making Crowley break out into a small smile. Charming thing, that laugh. He wonders if he could make the boy laugh again. "You're right. I'm Aziraphale."

"Aziraphale." Crowley hummed, testing the name. " _Aziraphale_. Sounds unique--angelic even. Let me guess, religious family?"

Aziraphale nodded. "Quite so. I was told that I was named after a Principality who guarded the Eastern Gate. My brother and step-sister are named after Archangels." He explained, playing with the ring on his little finger. 

"Really? What's their names?"

"My step-sister is Michael, my brother's Gabriel." 

Crowley froze, eyes widening behind the dark lenses that covered them. Shit, is Aziraphale a _Fell_? He couldn't _possibly_ be related to the jock Beelzebub hates so much. They look far too different to be siblings. "Wait. As in Gabriel Fell? You're a Fell?"

"Mhm."

Oh, he was so fucked. " _You're Aziraphale Fell?!_ "

Aziraphale tilted his head sideways. "Why do you sound so surprised? It's not like I'm famous or anything. Well, my brother is, maybe he mentioned me a few times to people, but I'm not that attention-catching."

"Uh..." Crowley said unsurely, trying to wrack his brain with something that won't expose fact the he was surprised because he was part of an elaborate plan to prank Gabriel. He was sure he'd piss Aziraphale off and he really didn't like that idea a single bit.

"I've seen a few of your articles in the paper. Nice stuff."

"Y-you read my articles?" Aziraphale said, eyebrows scrunched and slightly blushing. Crowley shrugged. He _did_ read the articles written under the penname _A.Z. Fell_. He found it genuinely interesting. Aziraphale has interesting takes and opinions on classics. 

"Came across it a few times, yeah." 

"W-well, thank you Crowley." Aziraphale said, flattered and glad. Crowley thought he looked adorable like that (not that he would admit that to anyone).

"Nothing to thank me for, Angel." He replied. 

"Why do you call me _Angel_?"

"You look like one." He blurted out before he could stop himself, making both of them stutter and blush. Crowley cleared his throat. "I mean, you look like those cherubs on paintings, with your blond curly hair and blue eyes. Plus, you were named after one." 

"I suppose." Aziraphale muttered, looking away. Crowley inwardly groaned, mentally kicking himself. What the hell was that?! Did he eat something today that made him act like this?! 

_Get yourself together!_ he scolded himself.

Suddenly, people began cheering around them, drumrolls and air horns filling the air as the cheerleaders made their grand entrance, taking their positions and hyping up the crowd further.

Crowley smirked. Yeah, a prank would put him back into his mood again. 

"Time to get this show on the road." He whispered, grinning mischievously.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beelzebub everyone! I promise you'll like them even more as the story progresses! Lots of love from me! Thank for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Did you like it? Comments and Kudos are much appreciated :)


End file.
